


Your Fire Burns Cold (And Yours Burns White-Hot)

by WildKitsune



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Mates, No one is human here, Shameless Smut, fest fic, monster fucking, these two talk too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:53:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26086009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildKitsune/pseuds/WildKitsune
Summary: Hermione finds an unconscious boy in the Great Hall after the battle of Hogwarts.  She has many concerns and worries when she gets near.  Why is he naked, and why doesn't she know who he is?  It turns out that she doesn't exactly like the answers she receives.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Voldemort
Comments: 21
Kudos: 125
Collections: Apocalyptic Tomione Monster Fest 2020, The Society For The Promotion of Monster Fornication





	1. We Might Just Be

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Apocalyptic_Tomione_Monster_Fest_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Apocalyptic_Tomione_Monster_Fest_2020) collection. 



> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

The battle was well past over. The last of the Death Eaters had surrendered, fled, or had been taken down by the surviving Order members and students. Many were out scouring the battlefield for dead and injured alike.

Hermione was alone as she scanned what remained of the Great Hall after Harry and Voldemort's final clash. No one felt comfortable there after what had happened to the Dark Wizard. No professor Hermione asked could explain his reaction to the spell. It niggled at her logical mind not to have a full explanation.

The enchanted ceiling shown bright blue to reflect the sky; only some of the stone was strewn across the ground making for jarring and surreal terrain.

Her eyes stilled on the spot where Voldemort had been hit by his own curse. She could vividly picture his skin turning gray black before he seemed to blow away like ash in the wind. As she thought once more about the chilling image, she noticed what looked like a barefoot among the rumble.

She didn't think before she was dashing across the expanse to do what she could for the poor soul, alive or dead. The body looked angelic even if he was smeared with dirt and grime. The boy was in his late teens, and completely naked. He could have been sleeping or dead, and Hermione worked to ignore his state to check to see if he was breathing.

There wasn't a student older than first year at the school that she wouldn't know on sight, but she had never seen the boy before. When she reached out to check his pulse, his hand grasped her wrist painfully hard.

His eyes snapped open, and he looked up at her with pools of black flame.

"Who are you?" He asked, then looked as if his voice had startled him. Nothing seemed to be wrong with it from Hermione's perspective; it was rich and alluring. Hermione shook her head to dislodge the odd thought.

"I'm Hermione Granger." She said as she tried to pull her arm free, but his grasp was firm for someone who could have been dead moments before. "Who are you, and what are you doing here…" She trailed off and purposefully looked away from him.

She watched the boy out of the corner of her eye as he noticed his bare state. He ran a free hand down his chest as if he didn't recognize the slim hard plane. He was quite delicately built, and Hermione again thought of an angle.

"This is impossible." He said instead of answering her.

"You must have had a very nasty accident to end up like this." She said as she took pity on him. He was disoriented.

What kind of curse could or would strip a person bare and leave them confused? It was the perfect position to take advantage of someone, which angered Hermione on the boy's behalf.

"Let's find you something to put on." She said as she tried to peel the boy's fingers from her arm, she was sure he would leave a bruise. "You must be cold." His fingers felt chilly under hers. "What did you say your name was?" She asked as she tried to be gentle with him.

"Hermione Granger?" He looked at her with narrowed eyes; she gave him a pitying smile.

"No, that's my name." She reminded him. "Can't you remember yours?" She asked as she gave up, dislodging his hold. She was probably the only thing that was anchoring him just then. She could handle a little pain if it made him feel safe.

He watched her without emotion for a long moment before his nose flared as if he was sniffing the air. He pulled her suddenly closer and smelled her hair. "Why do you smell so good, Hermione Granger?" He asked his tone, taking on a husky note that made her blush.

"Oh, that can't possibly be true." She hadn't been able to wash properly in months; Hermione didn't think she stunk, thanks to cleaning spells, but it was unlikely she smelt good. Though, as she spoke, the inviting scents of burnt sugar and campfire enveloped her. "I don't think that is me." She said as she leaned closer to smell him. "I think that's you."

"You smell like life and power." The boy said as his breathing became audible.

"Do those things have a smell?" She asked and then yelped as he shifted them so that he had her back to the ground as he knelt over her.

Hermione knew she had let it go too far, she should draw her wand and make the boy unhand her, but at his smell closed around her, she felt a bit fog brained. She liked the feel of his cold body over hers.

"They do when you know what to look for." The boy explained as he used his free hand to brush along the collum of her neck. His touch made her shiver as if he was leeching the heat from her skin.

"Somethings wrong," Hermione told him as his fingers brushed the collar of her shirt. "What is the last thing you can remember?" She needed to get him talking if they were going to figure out what happened to him.

"I remember everything." His eyes followed his fingers as they trailed further down her torso. "I died, but now I'm here with you, Hermione Granger. Harry Potter's…" His focus returned to her face. "...friend."

"You're radiating cold." She was drawn to cup his cheek in her hand as she continued to look into his burning eyes. "And there is something wrong with your eyes. I think you might be cursed. We need to get you to the Healers."

"I haven't felt this alive in fifty years. There is no way I am going to one of your Healers." He hissed as he smiled down at her.

It was only then that Hermione realized she saw malevolence in the way he looked down at her, the way he had been looking at her since he first woke.

"Who are you?" She asked again as the words' fifty years' spang into her head. He only raised an eyebrow at her as if he expected that she already knew the answer. "But that's impossible." She shook her head but knew they were on nearly the exact spot where the evil wizard had died.

"Magic is a lovely thing." He told her softly, then frowned and shook his head. "What I find more puzzling is why I feel the need to keep you close."

Hermione shifted slowly to draw her wand, and he just smirked down at her as he pressed it against her neck.

She could feel the blood run from her face, but there was no way she could let the dark wizard go free.

"HARRY!" She screamed, knowing the fear in her voice would bring anyone nearby, and a message would get to Harry sooner than later.

"That is quite inconvenient." He sighed, shifting back. When he got to his feet, he pulled Hermione with him by the arm he had yet to let go. "How much would you like to wager the Hogwarts wards are still disabled?" He asked right before he Disapparated with her held firmly in his grasp.

When they landed, Hermione bit back her whimper, she was unarmed in the embrace of the most dangerous wizard of all time. The only advantage she had was that he was still naked, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make herself stomp on his foot or kick back into his shin.

"No reason for anyone to come looking for me until I know what is going on." He explained as he nipped her ear.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked as she looked around.

"Home." He sighed and shifted his shoulders as if he was the one who was suddenly uncomfortable.

The room they were in looked as if it had been entirely abandoned, everything was falling apart, and she doubted anyone lived in the space.

"The Riddle house." She guessed, and he pulled her more firmly to his chest.

"Who have you been talking to, little witch?"

"Harry knows about this place. He's seen you here. He is going to know you're alive." She said a little relief coming as she realized her friend would be able to feel Voldemort.

"Sorry to disappoint you, my sweet." He spoke mockingly. "But I no longer feel connected to the boy. It is almost like I have a whole new life."

He pulled her with him as he suddenly headed out of the sitting room they had entered and down a wide hall. If the house was anything to go by, the Riddle family had once enjoyed showing off their riches, but now everything about them crumbled to dust.

The room he pulled her into looked in better condition than the rest of the house. Someone had used magic to fix the furniture, walls, and floor. She wouldn't call it comfortable, but it was livable.

"You've been living here?" She asked as he finally released her arm. She rubbed the place he had grasped so tightly as she worked to get the blood flowing to her hand once more.

"Did you expect me to sleep under Malfoy's roof?" He asked in disgusted as he dug through piles of clothes to find himself a suitable robe.

With her captor distracted, Hermione glanced towards the door and wondered if she could get away. Even as the thought struck her to move, the door slammed shut and locked itself. She turned back to see a smirking young Voldemort.

"You're not going anywhere." He said as he stalked towards her. He was wearing another in what seemed to be an endless supply of silken black robes.

Hermione backed towards the closed door in an effort to keep the distance between them. When her back hit the hard surface, she put her hand up to bar his way. Voldemort grabbed both her wrists and pinned them harshly to the door.

"What do you want with me?" She asked because she couldn't think of a reason for her to still be alive.

"I don't know yet." He sounded a bit frustrated as his chest pressed into hers. "I know know that you are warm and smell like life."

"You're cold." She answered thoughtfully. But his cold wasn't uncomfortable; it felt more like a cool cloth when she was running a fever or a swallow of ice water on a hot day. It soothed her, quenched what she needed.

"Do I smell like death?" He mocked her, but she shook her head.

"You smell like burnt sugar over a campfire." She told him honestly.

"I'm cold and smell like fire." He considered her words without moving an inch from her.

"Your eyes looked like they are burning with black flame." She added, maybe if she helped him figure out what had happened to him, he would let her go. However, she had little actual hope of him doing anything so fair.

"Do they?" He asked as his lips curved in a sinful and wicked smirk. "Because yours are burning with a pale blue flame."

"They're what?" She asked, shocked. Was he lying? She struggled to touch her eye as if they would feel the truth. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Why didn't you?" He countered.

"A lot was going on, and you weren't giving me any straight answers." She said as she glared at him.

"Forgive me; I had just woken from the dead with the avatar of some modern goddess bent over me."

Hermione flushed but tried not to take his words seriously. She knew from Harry that Voldemort was a charmer.

"I'm not telling you anything about Harry." She said as the thought struck her. It was the only use she would have to the infamous dark wizard.

"The broken life I had, and the desire to rid myself of Potter seem to have died away," He said thoughtfully. "I am thinking more clearly than I have in many years." He frowned, speaking in a distracted way. "I have to consider this to mean that my Horcruxes were affecting my mental state.

"All your Horcruxes are dead." She pointed as she made fists with her hands. "We killed every last one."

"Oh, I know that." His eyes flicked back to her. "Did you kill a part of me personally, little witch?"

"Yes." She thought back to the cup.

"Did it make you feel powerful?" He asked as his mouth curled up into a smirk once more.

"All I felt was relief." She looked back into his eyes, unashamed.

"Of course." He licked his lips and looked at her as if he could see into her soul. "I have been reborn this day." He released one of her wrists so he could stroke fingers over her cheek. "And it has something to do with you. We are the same, somehow." He sounded uneasy with his assessment.

"I'm nothing like you." She snapped and used her free hand to slap his face.

His eyes lit with a new kind of fire at the violent act, and she found his lips pressed against hers a moment later. His cold tongue demanded entry into her mouth, and she found she couldn't deny him.

Before Hermione understood her hands were free, she pulled Voldemort's robes open so she could feel the chest she had admired earlier that day. She felt a deep burning inside of her, and only contact with his cool skin gave her relief.

Voldemort's lips trailed from Hermione's and along her jaw while his hands, free to roam, moved down her arms to her chest and sides. He cooled ever bit of skin that he touched, and suddenly her only wish was to get as close to him as she could.

Only when Hermione felt his hardened shaft press against her bare stomach did she realize she was naked as well. She jerked back from him and whimpered as her body heated immediately.

Voldemort panted as he looked down at her as he too looked as if he was struggling to take back control of himself.

"What?" She swallowed and shook her head. "Why? I hate you." She told him even as her body screamed for her to close the small distance. She found only ash left where her clothes had once been with a quick look down at herself. His robe wasn't faring much better. "You burned my clothes!"

The evil wizard grinned down at her in malicious delight. "You're the one burning things, little witch." He motioned with his chin to the door she was pressed against.

When Hermione turned to look, he squeezed her hips as he fought the urge to continue where they had left off. The wooden door was blackening before her eyes; it was as if the heat she felt inside was radiating from her skin.

He took her bruised wrist and forced her to place a flat palm against his chest. She watched as his creamy skin started to turn pink.

"Does that hurt?" She asked before he placed his palm over her heart. She shivered as the prolonged contact became uncomfortably cold, but it also balanced the fire within her.

"Delightfully so, don't you think?" He looked into her eyes as he leaned in and once more took her lips in a demanding kiss. The Dark Lord's hands traced down her sides, and he pushed her arms out of his way to press his chest against hers.

She could feel his excitement and her core fluttered in response. With her hands free she moved them against his shoulders, intent on pushing him away. She needed to take control of her instincts.

As Voldemort lifted her from the ground and guided her legs to wrap around his waist, she complied without question, all resistance forgotten. Why couldn't she keep a thought in her head? Her hands clutched his shoulders and pulled him closer as her core rubbed over his shaft.

Hermione tilted her head back and let out little chirping sounds as he allowed his teeth to nip along her jaw and down her neck.

"I will have you." He said in a voice that sounded like a crackling fire, warm and dangerous.

"Yes." All Hermione could think about was how much she needed to connect with him and feel him inside her.

"What are you?" He asked in a honey-sweet voice, and he licked her ear.

"What am I?" She asked in disbelief. "You're the one who turned to ash and then came back." Her body moved against him, encouraging him to take her.

"Reborn with black fire within my soul." He shifted and slowly pressed himself into her as if he was working not to hurt her.

"Your fire burns cold." She gasped as his lips descended on the column of her neck.

"And yours burns white-hot."

Hermione whimpered as she needed more than what he was giving. "More?" She pleaded as a nearly silent part of her reprimanded her desire for him.

The man was a mass murderer, but she couldn't think of a single person she wanted more. The few times, Ron and her fooled around things had been stilted and awkward, but everything felt natural as breathing with Voldemort.

He stilled his movements with breath effort, and his hands squeezed her thighs. "I know our instincts are running full blast, but you're going to need some time before I can take you the way I like." He hissed in a rare show of consideration for another.

"I'll be fine." She whimpered as she tried to work herself against him. "I think I'll like the way you take me."

"It isn't for the inexperienced Hermione." He said as his grasp on her tightened to keep her still. "You need to adjust to hav-"

"For Merlin's sake, I'm not a virgin!" When she realized what he was getting at, she wanted to scream in frustration. "Pleas-"

He cut her off with another heated kiss, one that claimed more ownership of her body. As she struggled to get him to move more, her nails drove into his shoulder's skin. He didn't let her breath as his body finally thrust into her. He groaned against her lips as he took her without regard.

She keened into his mouth as the primal act became more heated. She felt as if she was going to burst into flame with their joining. She could see beautiful colors at the corner of her eyes as his kiss made her lightheaded from lack of air.

As the tight ball wound inside her, she realized she had never had a proper orgasm, and her first would be with one of the evilest wizards of all time. Her toes curled, and her heels drove into his lower back as she found herself on the brink of something overpowering and heady.

"Come, Hermione." Voldemort hissed as he finally broke their kiss. "Your every pleasure belongs to me." He demanded.

The sound she made as her pleasure seemed to explode from her was unrecognizable and hardly human. She fell back through the air and hit the ground hard as the door seemed to disintegrate with her touch. Voldemort never stopped his thrusts, and it appeared he was nowhere near done with her.

She was still trembling with aftershocks when he flipped her onto her knees. "You might take the house down if I let you come again." He said playfully, but that did not stop him from driving his still hardened member inside her from the new direction. But he slowed himself as he wished to savor their connection.

"You never answered my question, little witch." He nearly purred as she allowed herself to enjoy his every move.

"What question?" She asked, not that she had any reason to answer him, even if she now desperately wished to keep him just for the relief.

"What are you? You are made of fire, power, and life."

"You turned to ash and was reborn with fire in your soul." She repeated their words as something impossible struck her.

"What an interesting thought," He said as if he could read her mind. "And another has struck me that is equally as impossible."

Voldemort's fingers lightly traced their way up her spine.

"What is that?" She asked as she tried to shake off her disorientation. She needed to start thinking clearly if they were going to do more than fuck.

He leaned over her so he could whisper in her ear. "We might just be mates." The words were so low she almost didn't hear him. His hands moved around to take her head in his grasp; a moment later, she heard a cracking sound before the world went black.


	2. Reborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

When Hermione opened her eyes, she was on her back. She took in a great gasp of air, and her hands went directly to her neck. Burning black eyes stared down at her. Voldemort was smiling gleefully. When her hands felt for no injury, she dropped them from her neck. She noticed that even the bruise on her arm has disappeared.

"You tried to kill me." She accused and pushed him back as she sat up. Nearly dying seemed to have jolted her system enough to clear some of her need for him. 

"I did more than try," Voldemort told her happily. She wondered how long she had been out, she noticed that he had washed some, and put on a new robe.

"What does that mean?" She asked as she looked up to see the door was nothing more than a pile of ash, and even parts of the floor had not gotten away unscathed.

"When I snapped your neck, your body turned to ash, and you were reborn," His tone did not seem to match his words. He acted as if trying to kill her after what they had done was normal.

"Why would you do that?" She asked and shifted to move away from him. She didn't want to give him a chance to repeat his attack if she could help it. She didn't want her head fogging enough to let him so close again.

"How are you alive. You turned to ash Hermione, just as you said I had. I had a theory about us, and I wished to test it," Voldemort said and then tossed a book down next to her. How could he have had time to get a book? How long had she been out? She considered how long had passed from his final spell to the time she had noticed him in the Great Hall.

She looked down at the cover; it was unmarked like most ancient manuscripts. She treated it with more care than Voldemort had as she picked it up, and with one eye on him, she opened the book to see what he was trying to show her.

There was a title page inside the cover. "The Legendary and Mythical?" She read it aloud and frowned. Was Voldemort the type to believe in Nargles and Moon Frogs? He had seemed to be a lot of stock in Divination.

"I've marked the page." He was visibly fighting the urge to move closer to her, and she was glad of it. Distance might help keep her head clear.

She opened the book to the marked page and looked at a detailed magical illumination of a circle of figures who changed between birds made of fire and humans. They continuously changed back and forth as the group of five processed around the page. Her throat worked as she realized how old and valuable the book was. It was a bit painful to think of how he had just tossed it onto the floor next to her.

Voldemort chuckled as he watched her closely. "Just read the entry, silly girl. This all will be easier to understand once you do." He snapped in mock exasperation. He was making fun of her, and she gave him a good glare before looking back down at the book.

"Sublimis Pheonix." She started to read once more. "It is unknown how these rare and exalted beings come into existence. They are born to…" She trailed off as she continued to read the passage to herself.

The beings described in the book were witches and wizards with the immortality of the phoenix. It explained that it was nearly impossible to know if someone was one of these legendary beings until they died for the first time or made contact with their mate.

Like an ordinary phoenix, when they died, they were reborn from their ashes. With each death after the first, they would revert to the age they had been when they passed the very first time. Hermione frowned at that part and looked at Voldemort.

"But shouldn't you be old?" She asked thoughtfully. "It says you will always return to the way you were the first time you died. You just died today. Wasn't that your first time?"

"I have considered that," He said as he examined his hands. "By my calculations on how I appear, I am my sixteen-year-old self."

"When you made your first Horcrux." Understanding dawned on her as she looked back at the book. "It also says your eyes are only supposed to burn when you are near your mate." She closed her eyes as she considered the way she was drawn to him and what he had said about her eyes before they had joined.

He dashed forward and plucked the book out of her grasp before tossing it out of her reach. She flinched as the ancient manuscript hit the floor. "It also says  _ we _ only gain access to our full power when with our mate."

He was too close again, but before she could move away from his intoxicating smell, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. She could already feel the heat building under her skin.

"I didn't finish reading. I don't know what that means." She complained as his hands brushed down her sides to the small of her back. It was a struggle to pull away from him, but she forced herself to step back.

"As unbelievable as it might be, you are more than just a little witch, you are my mate."

Hermione shook her head, and her hand moved to her neck once more. He had tried to murder her, the destructive ideas her body had about how he could make her feel had to be denied.

"You killed me!" She reminded him as she looked back at the book. There was too much about the whole situation to absorb at once, and her brains seemed to be jumping around.

Voldemort smiled at her but made no further move to approach. "Indeed." He agreed in a tone that made her feel as if she was being childish. "But you came back as I guessed you would." His lips curved arrogantly.

"You risked my life on a guess!" Hermione growled as she considered the room, and her eyes moved to where the door had once been. She needed to leave before her instincts made her do something else she would regret.

He was on her again in a flash. He had no plans on letting her stray too far from him. "I find this shape pleasing, and it will mean forever seeming to be peers," Voldemort explained as his fingers liberally stroked over her body. "Though we both know, I will always be nearly a life ahead of you."

Hermione looked up into his eyes as she ground her teeth. Her annoyance with his presumption was a bit of a shield against her desire to be ravaged once more.

"It seems that permanently killing someone like us is quite difficult, and becomes nearly impossible when our mate is nearby. We will be unstoppable."

"I killed part of you only yesterday. Why would you think I wanted to help keep you alive now? Why would you think I would ever consider joining your side?"

"Many things have changed since yesterday." He pointed out as he looked down into her eyes. "And it turns out you did me a favor. It seems I never required my Horcruxes; they were only holding me back from my true potential." Voldemort rested his forehead against hers.

"You realize your army is broken; you've still lost everything," Hermione said as she breathed in his air and fought the urge to kiss him.

"I am quite aware of the state of my resources." He agreed while he continued to keep her close. "We will need to use this time to regroup and decide how to proceed. I've gained so much more than I've lost." His arms pulled her a bit closer as a show of exactly what he thought he had gained.

"I'm never going to be one of your minions." She put her hands against his chest to create a kind of barrier between the two of them. She instinctively knew pushing him away was beyond her ability.

"You are correct. A mate takes up a higher position than all others." He twisted her words to mean what he wanted.

"I'm not helping you hurt anyone." Hermione tensed her muscles to push him away. How had he gotten the strength to break her neck when she couldn't even shove him? It wasn't fair.

"What is it like for you?" He asked as he watched her struggle and made no move to hinder her. "Suddenly, finding yourself irrevocably bound to your worst enemy?"

"What's it like for you?" She glared up as her fingers grasped the front of his robe. "Aren't I everything you hate?"

"Not any more. Now you are a source of power and gratification. Both things I enjoy immensely."

"I feel like my mind is turning against me." She admitted before her face pressed against his chest, so she didn't have to see his reaction. "I feel like I'm burning from the inside out, and you're the only thing keeping me from exploding."

"As long as I can remember, I've felt cold and hollow, but your heat fills that desolate space, and I am warm for the first time in my life." He told her smoothly.

"You're known for your pretty words. I'm not falling for your trap."

"I don't think you have a choice but to submit to your instincts, Miss Granger." He chuckled. "I think you would want me even if I called you a mudblood whore. Shall we check?" He asked as his hand curled around her back and slipped over her butt.

"I-"

"Speaking of whores." Voldemort frowned and smacked her thigh hard with his palm to cut off any response she would have had. "I wasn't your first."

Hermione rolled her eyes and finally got enough will to push him away from her firmly. She took several steps back once she had her freedom and put her arms over her breasts.

"Was I yours?" She asked, feeling the question was utterly stupid.

"No, but that is different. I am a man." He explained as if she was being purposefully dense.

"What does that matter?" She rolled her eyes again.

"It matters because you are mine." He hissed, but she was distracted by black shadows spreading out from his neck and moving under his robe.

"Like hell." She countered as she fought the new urge to touch him.

Hermione could feel the flame feeding on her anger. The madder she got, the more she wanted him. How was anything about her life fair?

"You are  _ mine _ ," Voldemort hissed again. "And I  _ will _ take vengeance on any who dared to touch you." He continued as he watched her with blazing intensity.

"The only person I belong to is myself!" She said as the fire within her roared to break loose. She wanted him to cool her need, why was he so far away? Before she had consciously decided, she sprang on him and toppled them both to the ground.

He grinned up at her, allowing her to take control without a fight as her hands quickly turned his robes once more to ash.

"You were saying?" He asked as his hands soothed her by stroking her back and sides.

"Is it always going to be like this?" All she could think of was the need for him to fill her once more.

"Our bodies are adjusting and seeking to secure our bond." He explained, having read more on the subject than he had allowed her. "Once our bond is settled, these drives won't feel so all-encompassing. You are mine, Hermione. Fighting it will only lead to pain."

As his clothes turned to ash, her hand slid down between them. She didn't want to fight; she wanted him inside her, even if being on top felt wrong somehow.

"If I'm yours, then you are also mine." She breathed as she lowered herself slowly onto his member. "Should I be calling for Bellatrix's death?" She asked just to see how much he cared about the other witch.

As she considered the woman, she felt the urge to claw and rend, even as she took in every centimeter of his cock. She could feel his hands moved to her breasts as she lowered herself entirely onto him. It felt so much better to have him inside of her.

"It isn't the same." He interrupted her basking with his denial.

"How so?" She narrowed her eyes and started to move her hips in a way that felt pleasing. "Are you telling me you were never with her?"

"I wouldn't lie to you." He cooed. He looked up at her as if mesmerized by the sight and it only sent a thrill through her to have captivated the powerful wizard's attention. "But only to keep her wanting. I have never had feelings for any of the people with whom I have fornicated. Can you say the same?"

She leaned over him and placed her palms next to his head for balance as she rode his length faster. "I won't be with anyone I didn't care about." She said and then flushed a little. "Except you. This isn't me. This is the magic of what we are." She gasped as cool cunning fingers moved to the sweet bundle of nerves at her sex's apex.

"I'm right here with you, little witch. I don't care about people, and yet…" With a swift move, he put her once more on her back. He hovered over her as his dark hair burned like fire around his face. "...and yet, I want to claim every bit of you."

She reached up and ran her fingers along the black shadows she had noticed around his neck before. They moved down his arms and chest in elegant patches of soft feathers. He shivered as she stroked them.

"Is that your way of saying you care for the first time?" She asked as she pulled her attention back to his face. Her hips arched as he drove himself into her waiting form, his fingers spending continuous jolts of pleasure that would send her over the edge in no time.

"We will have to wait and see." He hissed as her toes curled on the very edge of her climax. He pulled himself from her as if he could read her mind, and he slipped wet fingers into her mouth so she could taste her essence.

She whimpered as his actions pulled her back from the brink and glared up at him as he smirked down at her. She considered biting him, but he pulled his hand away before she got the will to follow through.

Voldemort knelt over her as both their bodies settled down. "That was mean." She looked down her body's length to see his cock was still quite ready to please her.

"You're already burning everything you touch; I think it is a safety measure to keep you from coming again." He said as if he was only being cautious. "You did destroy my door." He reminded her.

"This place should be condemned." She pointed out as she pulled him down into a kiss. She wanted him to finish what he started; his drive must have been telling him the same.

His lips trailed from her's, along Hermione's jaw to just under her ear. "Tell me who's tasted you, and I will allow you the best orgasm of your life so far." He whispered as his fingers moved back to tease her lightly.

"I'm never going to give you what you want." She glared up at him even as her body moved into his touch.

"We'll see."

Hermione had no idea how long she spent shuddering under his torturous pleasure. He used every tool at his disposal to bring her right to the brink before denying her the release she needed. Each time he demanded to know who she had been with before, and each time she found new ways of telling him to get bent.

"How much more of this do you think you can take my sweet?" He purred as he denied her for what felt like the hundredth time. "You look ready to crumble."

"You're never getting that name." She shook under him. Her head felt full of cotton as all she could think about was the overpowering need in her core. "This isn't worth someone's life."

Her mate sighed as he looked down at her, and he once more shifted to take her overstimulated body. Hermione wrapped her legs around him in an attempt to keep him where she wanted him. "Look at me, Hermione." He commanded calmly as she flinched under him.

"I'm never going to tell you." She gasped as her toes curled. It wouldn't take much to send her over the edge with how long he had been playing with her desire.

"Do you want to come?" He asked, and she could see the focus it took him not to give in to his own pleasure.

"Yes!" She nodded quickly as she moaned.

"Keep looking into my eyes. I want you to remember. I'm the only one who will ever touch you again." He hissed before he started to take her in earnest for the first time in hours.

"Voldemort!" Hermione screamed as she finally climaxed. She could feel the pent up heat explode out of her, sending everything but him flying away and crashing into walls.

"You are mine." He leaned down and whispered as the world seemed to burn around them.


End file.
